The third poem in the portfolio is metaphor, writing about one thing, but meaning another at the same time. This one was tough for me, for some reason. I’m great at extended metaphor, but struggled to figure out one that could be used succinctly in a poem of only a handful of lines. However, while riding the skytrain one day, I got to thinking about siblinghood…
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Of the Middle
They pile in, the rush in full swing.
Pushed against the corners, flanked on either side.
We’re all close, but still ourselves, privacy a tenuous wall.
One holds a coffee cup in his hands, sipping at it variably.
He turns to look, I get a whiff of the coffee on his breath.
Yet another hand-me-down, something not my own.
The train stops, lulling into a station, and the cycle continues.
Some disembark, some board; still in the middle I am.
We move through the tunnel again, something we all shared.
They pile in, the rush in full swing.
And I am in the middle of it.
